…ironing ~ I used to spend hours – nay, days! – of my life toiling to make clothes crease-free, and it was simply a waste of time! Kids just sit on your neatly pressed piles of laundry, or chuck it on the floor and kick it around the carpet, or the sweaty-wet dog, who’s just bounded through a dirty stream, makes it into a bed, or – best-case scenario – the kids’ll jam it into unforgiving drawers or cupboard recesses along with last week’s mouldy peanut butter sandwich.
And whoever laid on their death-bed – white and teary – mourning the demise of knife-edge creases running down the front of their favourite crimpoline slacks?
… hanging your undies out on the washing line ~ it’s a fiddly, fart-arsey, far too time-consuming waste of life. And it’s no fun retrieving your favourite pair of comfy thongs from the elderly male next-door neighbour because there just wasn’t enough material to keep the little bastards pegged on the line. You know the ones ~ five-years-old, elastic chewed and dangling, dyed a murky grey from being washed, balled-up in the leg of your favourite pair of black, bootleg jeans, and marked with poo stains from that day you bent down to forage for a missing contact lens and the stringy bit really did go up your arse?
No? That’ll just be me, then…
… glossing woodwork ~ I hate, loathe and detest gloss paint with a passion reserved only for Jason; it’s just so gloopy, and you have to be really careful, working the paint, avoiding drips runs and drips on the carpet, and despite having to do it so carefully, you have to work super-fast, blending sections, because the paint you applied thirty seconds ago has already started to dry and just refuses to blend with the fresh stuff, leaving a lumpy, uneven ridge that looks like it’s been applied by a semi-conscious, drunk, blind cat And, then, when it’s dried you notice a sketchy bit, but you can’t just dab a bit of paint on to fill in the gap, like you can with emulsion. Oh no, ‘cos then, it’d just looks awful, so you end up re-painting the whole of the bleedin’ skirting board or door. And, then, when that coat’s dry, you notice another sketchy bit and – arrrggghhhh!
… moaning ~ nope, I’m wrong. There’s always time for bitchin’.
… making the bed in the morning ~ sorry, Irene and Hilary, but I just don’t get it. Why waste the energy when you’re only gonna go and rumple it again at night? And if your duvet’s permanently crumpled, nobody’s ever going to suspect that you succumbed at 2pm and crawled into bed for an afternoon snooze. 😉
… regrets ~ however many ‘mistakes’ you make or ‘wrong turns’ you’ve taken, they’re in the past. Done and dusted. Gone. It’s just a waste of energy regretting stuff, unless you’re now in a position to put things ‘right’ – apologise or give it up or make amends, learn from it and move on.
Track back all those things that went ‘wrong’ in your life and, chances are, you’ll have learned an important lesson or developed as a person as a result of that trauma. Yeah, I know it all sounds a bit vomit-inducing and New-Agey, but you get my point!
Bottom line: we’re only human and we all cock-up from time-to-time, and let’s face it, even Spiderman could be a bit of a knob.
… wasting time on selfish, disrespectful people ~ we all need to develop a healthy dose of self-esteem and acknowledge our own worth, and either help teach these people some manners or kick ’em into touch. I’m not talking about friends who have an occassional needy moment – don’t we all? – or those who need support because they’re going through a crisis. I’m talking about people who continually put you down or abuse your kindness by taking all the time and never giving anything back.
… internet bleedin’ dating ~ ye Gods! I’d rather watch gloss dry than spend another minute of my pitiful life trawling the net trying to find a bloke with testicles in amongst all those weedy, needy, pathetic big girls’ blouses masquerading as men!
…listening to Rebecca Black ~ ‘It’s Frid-ay, Frid-ay! Gotta get down on Frid-ay! Everybody’s looking forward to the week-end, week-end…’ Actually, why should I just suffer?
And so endeth today’s rant.
Now over to you: what else is life just too bleedin’ short for doing?